


The Measure of Strength

by EarendilElwing



Series: Almost Confessions [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Minor Swearing, Minor Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4766885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarendilElwing/pseuds/EarendilElwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sully learns that there are different kinds of strengths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Measure of Strength

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back... and officially I’m working on like ten different stories. I’ve been jumping back and forth between them whenever I get stuck. I fully intend to finish and post every single one, but I find it actually helps to walk away from one story to work on another and then come back. I also find that reader comments help me refine things, so while I usually like to have a full rough draft finished, I’ve decided to go a different route and post things as I go for some of my shorter works.
> 
> As such, updates for the next few stories will be much more infrequent. Sorry about that!
> 
> Also, this is my first attempt in a LONG time using first person P.O.V. and present tense. I wanted to experiment with different styles. Hopefully it’s not too awful. Using Sully for this experiment might not have been the best option in retrospect, but I’m too lazy to rewrite it now.
> 
> References to classes work like this in my Fire Emblem stories: A capitalized name (such as Assassin or Trickster) means that it is the character's current class status unless other grammar rules apply. A lowercase reference (such as thief or tactician) simply refers to the character's base classification.
> 
> Pairing: Sully x Virion

“Of all the reckless things you’ve ever done, this is by far the worst!” Chrom screams at me.

I stand at attention before the captain, but I hang my head in shame.  It’s taking a lot of effort not to fight back; I don’t take discipline (unless it’s self-inflicted) or rejection well.  But that’s what got me into this stupid mess in the first place.

“You knew the plan and Frederick gave you specific orders to follow.  And yet you willingly and knowingly disobeyed!  What the hell were you thinking, charging in like that?  Half the unit got mauled covering your escape and Virion’s extremely lucky to be alive!”

I look up at that last bit of news.  “So he’s gonna make it?” I ask.

“No thanks to you,” Chrom snaps.  “This was supposed to be a routine patrol mission, Sully.  You would have been more than a match for those brigands if you had just stayed in formation.”  He stops to take a deep breath.  “I want an explanation.  Now.”

I know I should probably tell him _something_.  Normally, I wouldn’t have a problem with it, but this is just so embarrassing.  He won’t get it anyway.  “It was a stupid mistake.  I guess I thought I could take ‘em alone.”

“Why in Naga’s name would you want to?  You’ve got nothing to prove.”

I don’t want to talk about it.  I feel like an idiot already.  I don’t need Chrom up my arse about it too.  “Look, I’m sorry, okay?  I know it was wrong, and I’ll take whatever punishment you want.  But I’ve got nothing else to say.”

He blinks at me in disbelief.  “You’ve got nothing else to say,” he repeats slowly.  The way he said it would probably be intimidating to most people, but I’ve known Chrom too long for that.  Besides, I’m too mad at myself to care at the moment.  

“That’s completely unacceptable!” he shouts.  “You nearly got an entire division killed and you’re not going to tell me why?”  He kinda looks like he wants to punch me in the face.  I almost want to dare him to, just to blow off some steam.

“Nope.”  I’m digging myself into a hole, but all I want to do is run away and hide.  Or hand some new recruits their lunch.  Or maybe curl up into a ball and die.  Alright, I don’t really want to die.  I just want to get the hell out of here.

“You’re trying my patience!  If you can’t give me a reasonable excuse for your behavior, then I’ve no choice but to pull you from active duty.”

This is too much.  I expected the yelling and the attitude, maybe some extra work, but beatin’ on brigands and Risen is the only thing that’ll make me feel better.  “You can’t do that!” I complain.  “We’re short-handed enough as it is.”

“Of course I can.  What I CAN’T do is trust you not to take unnecessary risks, or get others killed right now.”  He stares me down.  “Unless, of course, you decide to tell me what’s really going on.”

He’s baiting me.  I can tell.  I don’t give him the satisfaction of a response.  

He must have expected me to cave, ‘cuz his eye starts twitching and his neck gets red.  “Dammit, Sully!  What the hell am I supposed to do with you?”

Out of nowhere, another voice pipes in.  “Chrom?”

I turn around and feel my stomach drop.  Robin’s poking her head in through the doorway.  I was hoping she wouldn’t get involved, but there wasn’t much hope for that, since it was her plan I messed up.  She lets herself in and walks up to us.

Chrom smiles a little and holds out a hand to her.  “I’m sorry, Robin.  Did I wake you?”

“I think you woke the whole castle.”  She grins back at him, but ducks her head shyly when he puts an arm around her and kisses her on the forehead.  

If it was any other girl, I’d probably gag, but it’s different with Robin.  Me and her are a lot alike.  We’re not big on the mushy stuff.  Plus, after all the crap she’s been through and put up with, I’m glad she’s happy, even if it is with a knucklehead like Chrom.

“So what are you yelling about?” she asks.

Chrom nods at me with a sour look on his face.  Smart girl that she is, she gets it right away.

“Going well, is it?”

“Not so much,” I answer for him.  He glares at me.  Hopefully, Robin can get him off my back.

She turns and looks me in the eye, probably trying to read my expression and body language.  It’s the first time I’ve taken a good look at her since she’s recovered from that nightmare mission in the mountains of Regna Ferox.  Outwardly, she seems the same as always, but her eyes are different now.  It’s like she’s aged a hundred years in just a few weeks.  And the emotion in them looks like a cross between affection and disappointment.  It’s like looking at a mom who has just caught her kid committing a crime.  

It’s unnerving, and that sad look makes me feel even more guilty.  I look down at my feet again.

After a while, I hear her mumble, “Chrom…” and then her voice drops to a whisper.

I can’t make out what she says, but I sneak a glance up to see his reaction.  At first, it seems like he’s going to argue, but something causes him to rethink it.  Eventually, he shrugs and crosses his arms.  “Very well.  If you think you can get through to her, be my guest.”

Robin smiles again and touches his hand.  Then she starts walking towards me.  “Let’s go, Sully.”

I raise one of my eyebrows.  “Where?”

“There’s a really sweet produce vendor in the city that promised to save me a bunch a fruit.  Apparently, it’s imported from… where was it again?  Rosanne?  I think that’s what it’s called.  Anyway, I want to go pick some up before it gets dark.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

She rolls her sword arm and the shoulder pops so loud, even I cringe.  “I’m not back to my full strength yet.  If a couple of thugs decide to harass me, I’m not so sure I could handle it.  I’d feel a lot better if you came along as my bodyguard.”

I laugh at the idea that Robin couldn’t take care of herself.  “Har!  I’m flattered, but we all know that giant brain of yours is more lethal than anything I can dish out.”

“Still,” she continues, “the considerable extra muscle can’t hurt.”  Then she flashes me that crafty smirk she has whenever she thinks of something particularly clever.  “As your future queen, I could order you to come.  But if you really want to stay here with Chrom, I guess I can see if Cordelia wants to accompany me instead.”

“Hell no!”  I don’t care where or why, but if it gets me the hell out of here, I’m fine with it.  “I’ll come.  I’m just gonna need a few minutes to gear up.”

“Then I’ll meet you at the front gate as soon as you’re ready.  Good?”

“Yeah.”  I salute Chrom before I leave, he’s still my captain and prince after all, and it’s not like I’m actually mad at _him_.  As I head for the door, I catch the tail end of a last minute conversation.

“…sure you’ll be okay?”

“Of course.  Sully’s one of the strongest and most reliable Shepherds we have.  I trust her completely.”

Thanks, Robin.  Way to twist the knife in me.  Usually, I love hearing stuff like that, but thanks to my big blunder, it just makes me feel worse.  Although knowing her, I’m sure she truly means it.

I’m already wearing my Paladin armor, so I just need to grab my sword and a shield from my room in the barracks.  I suppose I’d be able to drag along some more weapons if I wanted to; somehow it almost feels like I’m naked if I’m not loaded down with as many sharp, pointy things as I can carry.  Then again, it’s just a quick trip to the city market.  We’re not likely to run into too much trouble, if any.  

Robin’s already waiting for me when I meet her at the gate.  In her hand is a basket with a cloth inside, probably for covering the fruit after we pick it up, and a pouch of coins to pay the vendor.  There’s also an Elthunder tome stuffed in it for added protection.  

“Ready to go?” she asks me with a smile.

“You bet.”

We walk side by side into the city following the main streets.  People from all walks of life pass us by, going about their own business.  Different people wave or nod to us; some of ‘em even wish us good afternoon.  Shop owners and street vendors push their goods and sales by yelling at the top of their lungs, and the air is stifling with lots of dueling smells from food, animals, and people.

It’s not often I’m actually out in the city myself, and it’s a nice change.  I’m usually too busy training, and most of the times that I do manage to make it out is just a quick trip to the forge or weapons shop.  And I don’t make it a habit to do any shopping with other girls because that usually means clothes shopping.  I’m not opposed to it; it’s just the concept of trying on a bunch of frilly things that grinds me.  But I don’t have to worry about it with Robin.  She knows me well enough never to ask me to do super girly stuff like that.

Then again, if I at least tried to be more girly on occasion, I might never have ruined that patrol mission.

Speaking of, I’m a little nervous ‘cuz I sorta figured Robin would start interrogating me right away about my screw-up too, but instead she asks me a lot of questions about the city and the people.  It surprises me at first, but then I remember that she never really spent any time here.  It’s a weird thought.  She’s such an essential part of the Shepherds, and she’s so easy to get along with that it seems like she’s always been a part of us, when it’s really only been a few months.  And most of those months were spent on the road: marching, camping and fighting.  But it makes sense that she’d wanna learn more about the culture and people of Ylisse, especially since she’s gonna marry Chrom and be queen in a couple of weeks.

After covering the major topics like industry and social class, she asks me out of the blue, “Have any major battles been fought _within_ the city?”

I shake my head.  “Nah.  Not that I can remember in recent times anyway.  Usually it’s the outside villages that get ransacked.”

The grin melts from her lips.  “True enough.  Occupying or destroying smaller sectors is essentially War Strategy 101.  Still, it’s a despicable practice.  So many innocents suffer for it.”  A shadow falls over her face and there’s a far off look in her eyes.

It takes me a sec to notice that she’s not beside me anymore.  I turn around and see that she’s standing in the middle of the street a few feet back.  Her head’s bowed with one hand covering her eyes.

I jog back to her.  “Hey!  You alright?”  She’s standing still, but the hand holding the handle of the basket is clenched tight and trembling.  She doesn’t answer.  “Robin?”  I grab her shoulder to shake her.

She flinches, and I let go right away.  She doesn’t say anything for a minute, but eventually she blows out a long puff of air and rubs one of her eyes with her palm.  Then she looks to me again and gives a sort of half-smile.  “Sorry, Sully.  I didn’t mean to space out on you like that.”

“Uh, no problem.  Are you okay?”

She nods slowly.  “Yeah.  It’s nothing, just… bad memories.”

“You sure?”  She starts walking again without answering, basically shutting me down.

I know what’s going on with her, and I’m sure Chrom’s aware of it too.  It’s the frozen, horrified look in her eyes that gives it away.  I’ve seen that same look before in my father’s and brothers’ faces once in a while after the first war with Plegia.  It’s the look that says something really bad happened, and the memory of it just won’t let go.  It creeps up on you, sometimes out of nowhere, sometimes triggered by something… a word, a touch, or maybe a smell.    

We all have nightmares about the recent war, even me.  I tell myself that we did what was necessary, that we’re in the right and that it’s for the greater good, and it’s probably true.  We defended Ylisse and saved the people from monsters who didn’t hesitate to devour us.  But still… people died on both sides, by our hands, by my hands.  We… I ended lives that didn’t belong to me.  Whenever I struck down my enemies, I watched the light leave their eyes and felt the life leave their broken bodies.  I am stained with their blood and no amount of scrubbing or soaking will clean it.  

I don’t think about things like that in the moment.  Politics, religion, honor, and all the other excuses people use for war stop existing.  When it comes down to the actual battle, it’s just me against my enemy: kill or be killed.  I focus on protecting myself and my comrades, and by extension, my country.  

When I’m honest with myself, I have to admit that I actually kind of enjoy it.  Not the killing part per se, but the feeling of accomplishment when I’ve defeated my enemy.  It’s the exhilaration and adrenaline rush of knowing that one wrong move could be the last one I ever make.  It’s the glory of winning, and the pride of proving that I’m stronger than someone else, stronger than most really.  

But the nightmares always come later.  They don’t bother me too much, but I still have them.  It might be my own damn ego or the vengeance mentality, but I don’t let it get to me.  

It’s a different story with Robin.  She’s constantly being forced to weigh the value of human lives.  And no matter what she decides, she’s condemning people to die.  It’s a burden I don’t want, but I wish she didn’t have to take it either.  

Still, I’m guessing that the recent change in her is less about the overall war and more about that mission in the mountains.  I haven’t heard the whole story, and part of me doesn’t want to.  I only know the little from when we picked them up a few miles from the meeting place and the bits and pieces I’ve overheard from others.   

I was sparring with Stahl at the time, when Frederick on horseback came over and told us to saddle up.  Our unit of Cavaliers, Paladins, Great Knights, and Pegasus Knights rode out and found Robin’s team surrounded by Risen and on the verge of death.  Most of them were severely injured, soaking wet, and passed out in a huddle.  A bleeding Panne was in Taguel form with Gaius on her back, growling as she pushed herself to her feet.  Miriel was on her knees, holding the last shreds of a Thoron tome.  And Robin stood on shaking legs at the front of the pack, bruised and blood-stained, wielding a Brave Sword and keeping herself between the Risen and her comrades.  

We took out the Risen and everyone paired up with someone from Robin’s team to transport them back to camp.  I got stuck hauling Lon’qu.  Lucky for me he was completely unconscious; I’d never have gotten him on my horse otherwise, but halfway back, I got worried that I might’ve been hauling a dead body.

The healers took over when we got back to camp, and that’s all I knew for a while.  A few days later, I’d heard that besides the wounds, they were all extremely hungry and sleep deprived, Robin most of all.  Some of them were poisoned.  Something awful happened to them when they arrived at the last village in the mountain pass, somehow involving sadistic brigands and an experiment with creating Risen.  Whatever it was, Robin blamed herself for nearly getting her unit killed and for being unable to save the villagers that lived there.  She was so wounded and stressed that she slept for a week straight.  

That was about a month ago.  Lissa had healed all the wounds on her body, but no one could touch the ones on her heart.  No one except Chrom maybe.  He was probably the only one outside of the unit who knew the whole story.  I’m guessing that’s why he did his best to help Robin stay busy and rarely let her out of his sight.  

Now that I think about it, the fact that he’s allowing her to go into the city with only me for company shows a lot of trust.

I can feel a pain in my stomach that has nothing to do with any training bruises.

“Ah.  Here we are.”  

I look around and find that we’ve arrived in the main square of the city.  It’s surrounded on all sides by different shops and the open space is filled with carts, wagons, stands, and kiosks selling everything from cupcakes to books to armor.  I start eyeing a guy with an impressive display of battle axes, vaguely wondering how much coin I’ve got on me.  Robin seems to be thinking the same thing, judging from the way she’s weighing her own pouch in her hand while looking at a book kiosk.  

She sighs and puts the pouch back in her basket.  “It’s a shame I didn’t bring more with me.  Oh well.  Another time perhaps.”

“I’d say the same, but my family doesn’t give me much shopping money.  Even when they do, they always send a servant along to make sure I don’t blow it all on weapons and armor.”

Robin laughs.  “Knowing you, that makes sense.”  As we pass a tailor holding up a gown for display, she continues the conversation.  “You and I both aren’t very obsessive about clothes, but I have to say, if I had your figure, I might be more inclined to wear dresses on occasion.”

I raise my eyebrows.  “You’re wearing one right now, aren’t you?”

She looks down at the article self-consciously.  It’s nothing fancy.  It’s in the same style that most commoners or village girls wear except that the sleeves are longer (they are fitted on the upper part of the arm and bell out at the elbow like a Sorcerer’s robe) and the material is higher quality.  The top part of it is sort of a tannish color and the gown is an earthy brown.

“Yes, well, it’s not exactly by choice.  My tactician’s robes are apparently still being mended.”  She wrinkles her nose and her dark eyes narrow.  “That’s what I’ve been told, anyway.  In truth, I suspect that Maribelle is deceiving me in her efforts to make me look and act more like a noblewoman.  I overheard her and Sumia plotting to transition my wardrobe gradually until I get used to dressing like a queen.”  She smiles again as she glances over at me.  “It’s not that I hate the clothes, actually.  I just find them impractical.  Still, if I had legs like yours, I’d find a way to make it work.”

The statement takes me by surprise and I can feel my face getting red because of it.  “Har har.  That sounds like something Virion would say.”  As soon as I say the idiot’s name out loud, another wave of guilt crashes into me.  

I can see her smirking at me out of the corner of my eye.  “He has commented on it rather frequently.  Yours in particular seem to be something of a favorite of his.”

Guilt changes to annoyance immediately and I’m grinding my teeth without thinking.  I have lots of bad habits, but this one is pretty new.  Now that I think about it, it started around the time that pea-brained archer joined the Shepherds.  I stop caring about his previous injuries and entertain sweets thoughts of causing new ones.  “Really?  Well, if he likes ‘em so much, I’d be happy to let him get a closer look.”  

Robin’s smirk turns downright wicked.  “I think that’s probably his ultimate goal, is it not?”

It’s a good minute or two before I catch on to what she’s implying, and then my body really heats up.  “Robin!  That’s not what I meant!  I was talking about kicking him in the face!”

“If you say so.  Hey, look!  Isn’t that Frederick and Sumia?”  She shields the afternoon sunlight with her hand and squints in the direction of a tea shop.  “Yeah, it’s them.  It’s so strange to see them without their armor on, don’t you think?  Hey!  Frederick!  Sumia!  Over here!”  She waves at them to get their attention.

Dammit!  Of all the people to run into right now; Frederick is the last person I want to see.  I can’t exactly leave Robin, but I don’t want to deal with him right now either.  Before he and Sumia see me, I duck behind the nearest cart, which happens to be full of flower bouquets.  I’m pretty well hidden behind some tall sunflowers, but I can still see them from here.  If I’m lucky, Robin won’t give me away or ask them to join us on her errand.  

I’m a damn coward.  

The two of them walk up her, faces glowing happily as they talk.  Sumia’s wearing a lilac colored dress and her long hair is half tied up by a bow.  She lets go of Frederick’s arm (she probably needed to hang on so she wouldn’t trip) and hugs Robin.  Frederick’s wearing a plain white dress shirt with a tie, dark colored trousers, and black boots.  He stands at ease, hands crossed behind his back.

He looks really good in his plain clothes.  Then again, he looks good in his armor too.  He looks good period.  The only hitch is the gold ring on his left hand that matches Sumia’s.  

I let my shoulders sag from the weight of my own self-loathing.   I really need to get over this.

“Excuse me.  Is there something I can help you with?”

I turn around to find the flower vendor looking at me with kind green eyes and a friendly smile.  Long, brown hair flows down her back with different colored blossoms woven in the strands.  She’s holding a stack of long-stemmed roses in one hand while the other soothes down the front of her bright pink dress.   

“Oh, um… I’m just looking.”

The girl must not know a lost cause when she sees one, because she easily flows into a detailed description of the flowers next to me.  It must have looked to her like I was staring at them.  I try to decline as politely as I can, she’s just trying to make a living after all, but when she tells me the price, I decide to give in.  They’re pretty cheap, especially considering how beautiful they are.  It’s strange that I even notice.   

I fork over the two coins, and pick out an arrangement of greyish blue and red roses.  It’s a strange combination of colors, but it seems to work somehow.  The red ones, my favorite color obviously, are bright and bold, but the blue ones are pale and subdued, kind of refined and subtle in its own way.

Gods, I’m getting philosophical.  I need a damn vacation.

“They’re gone now.”

“Ugh!  Robin, don’t sneak up on me like that!”  I glare at her and put my free hand to my chest.  

“Sorry!”  A creepy smile and a wink take away from the honesty.  “Like I said, Frederick’s gone now, so you can stop hiding.”

“I’m not hiding!”  I know it sounds defensive and I’m blushing again, which doesn’t help my case.

“Of course not.  Shall we continue?”  She walks away again without waiting for me to agree or commenting on my flower purchase.

“I wasn’t hiding,” I repeat when I catch up to her.

She gives me the “sympathetic mom” look.  “It’s alright, Sully; I understand.  If I were in your position, I wouldn’t be particularly thrilled to see them either.”

Does she know?  No, she can’t.  Can she?  “Don’t know what you mean,” I say.

We’re approaching the area where fruits and veggies are sold.  Robin starts looking around for the one she wants as she continues.  “Rejection is a terrible thing to endure in general.  It must be exceedingly worse when circumstances force you to remain in close proximity to the source.”

I bite my bottom lip as I try to follow what she’s saying.  “What now?”

“Hmm?  Sorry, I guess I’ve been reading a lot of Miriel’s textbooks recently.  What I mean to say is that it must be hard to work with Frederick after he chose Sumia over you.”

I stop short as my jaw drops some, feeling shell-shocked.  How the hell did she find out?  The only ones who know about that are me and Frederick.  He might have told Sumia, but since she hasn’t been treating me any differently, I kinda doubt it.  Finally I manage, “How did you…”

“I didn’t,” she interrupts.  “Well, I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t certain until you confirmed it just now.”

Damn it!  It takes a lot of restraint on my part not to slap a hand to my forehead for falling into her trap.

“Lady Robin!”  We both look to see an elderly woman and (probably) her husband calling from a few stands down.

“To be continued,” Robin promises, and jogs over to the couple.  I follow slowly and by the time I get there, she’s already hugged the woman and shaken the man’s hand.

“We were wondering if you’d be stopping by today,” the woman was saying.  “I’ve set aside a nice assortment of our sweetest fruits, guaranteed fresh all the way from Rosanne.”  She motions for Robin to step behind the display and pulls out a crate from underneath the stand.  I stay in the front, but I lean over to look at the multi-colored crops.

The old man smiles kindly at both of us.  “We’ve been trying to stockpile as much as we can.  Given the state of things, we cannot be sure how much longer we’ll be able to receive shipments from home.”

Robin nods as she crouches and begins to inspect the produce.  She puts the ones she likes in her basket.

“So, you two are actually _from_ Rosanne?  Where is that exactly?”  I ask just to fill the silence.  In all honesty, I’m not that interested.

The old man confirms my first question and explains the second.  “Rosanne is a small country on the continent of Valm, west of here.  We came to Ylisse a few months ago seeking refuge and asylum.”

“Asylum from what?”

The woman leaves Robin’s side to add her bit to the conversation.  Her face looks neutral, but there’s coldness in her eyes and sharpness to her tone as she says, “It’s quite a long story, my dear, and well beyond casual conversation with strangers.”

Translation: none of your damn business.  Whatever, no skin off my bones.

“I think I have what I need,” Robin says, standing up.  The old woman turns back to her to negotiate the price.

I share a look with the gentleman and shrug.  He glances at his wife, and then leans in a little towards me.  “Please forgive my wife’s demeanor,” he whispers.  “Those of us who chose exile rather than oppression have had our share of troubles, and she has taken it harder than most.”

I raise an eyebrow.  He’s starting the pique my interest.  “Sounds rough.  Political problems?” I probe.

“More or less.  Something akin to a regime change, so to speak.”

By now, Robin and the old lady have finished the sale and are looking at us.  Instead of cutting us off, the woman gets fired up and joins in.

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for our sorry excuse for a leader.”

“Now, love…”

She aims an icy glare at him.  “Why are you always defending him?  That coward fled in the middle of our country’s most decisive battle!  He chose to save his own skin while the rest of us faced death or subjugation!”

My own temper rises in agreement with the old woman.  There’s nothing I hate more than cowards, especially ones who abandon others to save themselves.  “Sounds like a pretty lousy leader.”  In the back of my mind, I thank Naga that Chrom’s nothing like that.

The guy puts a hand on his wife’s shoulder to try and calm her.  “Honey, as I’ve said before, I’m not _defending_ him.  I simply think that we mustn’t be too quick to rush to judgment without knowing the full story.  I can’t help but believe that Lord Virion must have had his reasons for doing what he did.”

My fire dies down at that bit of information.  “Wait… _Lord_ Virion?  You’re not talking about Ruffles, are you?  As in the airheaded archer chasing everything in a skirt?  Doesn’t know when to shut up?  Spends more time in front of a mirror more than any girl I know?   _That_ Virion?”

Robin, who so far has just been listening, interjects.  “Most of the Shepherds are aware that Virion is a noble, but not many are privy to the fact that he is the former Duke of Rosanne.”

My eyes widen at the revelation.  “Seriously?”  She nods.

“So both of you know him?” the old lady accuses.  “Then you should know that you are consorting with a weakling and a craven!”

In an instant, a rush of memories attacks my mind, some of them from the times Ruffles asked me to watch him earn his “hero” status.  I remember how easy he made it look to take down an enemy an entire unit had trouble with, and the restraint he showed by refusing to engage in needless bloodshed.  I think of the panicked look in his eyes when I charged recklessly into battle during that botched patrol mission, and the way he selflessly took several strikes from an Elwind tome for my sake.  And I (unwillingly) picture the toned arms, strong abs, and graceful poise of his upper body when he fits an arrow to the bowstring.

I guess it’s possible that his efforts with the Shepherds might be his way for making up for abandoning his own people, but somehow, I doubt it.

“You know, I think I’m with the old man on this one,” I tell them.  “Sure, he’s a flake and annoying flirt, but there’s more going on in that head than we give him credit for.”

The woman scowls.  “The only thoughts that scoundrel entertains are those concerned with his own preservation and pleasure.”

Something in me snaps at that, though I can’t pinpoint why exactly.  Maybe it’s because I know from experience that Virion can be infuriatingly valiant – he’d stuck his scrawny neck out for me more than once, even after I’d warned him not to.  (I can usually save my own arse, thank-you-very-much).  I’d also heard from others that he can be surprisingly helpful, maybe even considerate.  In any case, I’m not about to listen to some hag insult the man who’d saved my life.

“Listen here, you old witch.  If you think I’m gonna stand here and let you insult one of my comrades, then you’ve got another thing coming!”

She sneers at me, lip curling.  “I am not insulting anyone’s ‘comrade’.  I am simply stating the truth about that coward!”

I draw my sword without thinking.  “I dare you to say that again.”  I half hear some bystanders shriek and run away.

The fruit vendor holds up her hands but smiles harshly.  “A knight who draws a sword on a defenseless old woman?  How very honorable.  Looks like I made a mistake.  It would seem that Virion is in good company after all.”

That damn wench!  Insulting Ruffles in one thing, but no one insults MY honor and walks away from it.  “What did you say to me?”

There’s a hand on my shoulder before I can do anything else, and Robin pulls me back enough to meet my glare with one of her own.

“As difficult as it is to hear, she is correctly pointing out that you aren’t behaving like a knight or a Shepherd at the moment.”  I’m too annoyed to figure out what she means right now, so I let her force my sword arm down.  “Come on.  It’s time we headed back anyway,” she says.

While Robin speaks to the elderly couple, I sheath my sword and walk away, just far enough so I don’t have to listen to whatever horse shit they’re saying.  I’m seething, but now that I’m a little out of the situation, I can’t figure out why exactly.

“Sully…”

Robin’s at my side again and indicates with a nod that we’re finished here.  I’m still red hot and irritated, but now I’m not sure how to feel.  I rub my forehead with my free hand, almost forgetting that I’m still lugging around this stupid flower bouquet.  I groan loudly.  Just what the hell is wrong with me? 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> FYI, I try to update my writing profile with the major projects I’m working on, but it’s not always up-to-date. You can also follow me on Tumblr if you want. I getting more active there, so you’ll likely be able to see my progress there.
> 
> Until next time!


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